“You’reinsane,” I tell him.
He kisses my nose. “You’re the one walking out of here with a plug up her arse, Molly. Tell me again who’s insane.”
I fume…and drip…all the way back to the car.
Our next stop is another SoHo store. For a second, I think he’s taking me into one of the glossy, ultra-trendy designer dress shops.
He walks right past that one and pushes open the door of a quieter place instead.
I step inside and forget, for a hot second, that I have something lodged in my ass.
The clothes are gorgeous. Clean lines, soft tulle, romantic details. Everything is exactly my taste. I run my fingers along a skirt and look up at him.
“How did you know I’d like this?” I ask.
“The dress I got you for the wedding.” He nods toward a rack. “It’s from here.”
Of course it is.
“The dressing room ready?” Declan asks the model-gorgeous woman running the store.
She nods quickly. “Thank you, Mr. Murphy. Anything you like. It’s yours.”
Back off,I think automatically, my vision bleeding green.
“Whiskey,” Declan says. “For me and my bride.” He winks, lewd but somehow still charming. She disappears into the back, returning with glasses and a bottle from what I can see is clearly a fully stocked bar.
They must deal with a lot of very rich, very particular clients here.
Declan drops onto the sofa in the middle of the shop, the place men probably wait while their partners try on things. He pats the cushion beside him.
“Sit. Drink with me.”
I give him a look. “I can’t.”
“Why?” he asks, eyes dancing.
I glare at him.
But I can sit. The plug just buries itself deeper. My pussy clenches around nothing, a desperate little bitch, and I’m pretty sure if I stay here long enough, I’ll leave a wet patch on this very expensive sofa.
“Not there,” Declan says quietly. “Here.”
He tips his thigh, and I realize he wants me on his lap.
I toss back the whiskey, pour another, and obey.
The store clerk brings over some shoes. “Size six?” she asks.
I nod.
Declan turns my face and kisses me, moving me slightly on his lap.
It’s not until his fingers slip under my skirt, push my panties aside, and toy with my slit that I realize he repositioned me forhim.
I am trapped.
My face burns hot while my insides melt. The clerk slides the shoes onto my feet, chatting lightly with Declan. But it’s all white noise to me. My only focus is the way his fingers move, the way his knuckles brush the plug, the way his touch flickers between the two sensations until I’m dizzy with need.
